Soap (Remembering Susie)
by tika12001
Summary: 'If someone had told Maura six months ago that a simple bar of soap would have made her dissolve into tears that were almost hysterical in nature, she would have had a hard time believing it. But yet, here she was, that damn piece of soap in her hand, and struggling for breath as tears streamed down her face.' R.I.P. Susie Chang! No Rizzles in this one, guys.


**_Title: Soap (Remembering Susie)_**

 ** _Author: tika12001 (aka Katie)_**

 ** _Rating: T (language only)_**

 ** _Disclaimer: not mine, never will be, make no money (boo hoo)_**

 ** _Summary: If someone had told Maura six months ago that a simple bar of soap would have made her dissolve into tears that were almost hysterical in nature, she would have had a hard time believing it. But yet, here she was, that damn piece of soap in her hand, and struggling for breath as tears streamed down her face._**

 ** _Author's notes: I don't know about anyone else, but I was entirely unhappy about the way they have thus far dealt with Susie's death. I mean, not even a mention in the last episode? REALLY? Hmph. Anyway, so I offer this story. Is it good? Probably not. But still. TAAAAKE IIIIIT. Bwahaha._**

 ** _Also, I have finally moved, and my housemates (well, only one of them) is unbelievably annoying. And soooo lazy. It's gonna be interesting! :-P_**

 _R &IR&IR&I_

If someone had told Maura six months ago that a simple bar of soap would have made her dissolve into tears that were almost hysterical in nature, she would have had a hard time believing it. But yet, here she was, that damn piece of soap in her hand, and struggling for breath as tears streamed down her face.

The soap was from Susie. Her colleague, her helper... even her confidante at times. The only person, besides Jane, with whom Maura felt comfortable to be herself, to express her excitement over what some might consider trivial topics of interest... the only other person that Maura truly considered a friend. But... she was dead. And Maura now sat on the floor, sobbing over the gift Susie had given her two Christmases ago, and that Maura consequently forgot about. It was just soap... and yet it was so much more.

Vaguely, Maura could hear the door opening downstairs. There was silence for a moment, then hurried footsteps, and when a blurry Angela stood before her, saying words that Maura couldn't hear over the roaring in her ears, she closed her eyes and sobbed harder, gripping the soap like a lifeline between her hands. It was odd, part of her mused emotionlessly, that she could hear Angela coming upstairs, but yet could not hear her voice. That she could feel every gram of the soap she held in her hands, but not the cold tiles beneath her. That her eyes were closed, but she looked not upon the dark pink inside of her eyelids, but at a kind of never ending movie of the moments that Maura remembered best about her favourite senior Criminalist. Still without inflection, though her exterior self showed nothing but emotion, her interior voice coolly informed her that there was probably something terribly wrong with her. That her severe depletion of sensory awareness was not caused by grief, but by something physical, and instantly, Maura felt her heart begin to gallop in her chest, her breaths short and hard. She looked up for help... but Angela was no longer there.

How long had she been gone? Had she truly been there in the first place? Maura didn't know. But it was... it was still a satisfactory turn of events, Maura was certain. Because, although she was finding it hard to breathe, her vision darkening (that godforsaken Susie-movie still playing, however), she knew that death was not the enemy. Death was the natural order of things, though Maura _did_ feel sorry for Jane. Jane, and Angela and... would Korsak miss her? Frankie? Maura was not sure, but she thought that they might. After all, she helped them solve many a case... and who knew, they might even miss her for just being _Maura_. Not that being herself ever seemed to be enough, but...

Maura's hands tightened on the soap reflexively and she gasped in another strained breath. It was just... it was just too much. It was her biological mother and her biological father... it was feeling _them_ ticking over in her every moment she lived, scared to be like them and yet terrified to be anything else (because what if she was _worse_ somehow). It was her adopted mother and father (because if they couldn't bear to find the time to spend with her, who would?). It was Hoyt (because if Jane died, Maura honestly didn't know how she'd go back to a friendless existence), and it was Dennis Rockmond (because what did that say about Maura, that murderers tended to like her?). It was Frost (because he was so sweet, and gone far too young) and now it was Susie. Her friend. Murdered. Because she did her job, and saw what Maura didn't (when you think about it, it was really all Maura's fault).

The sound of the door opening downstairs once more permeated Maura's consciousness, and she wondered hazily if it was the sound of Angela leaving her. It had been nice having her stay... nice to feel useful, even if she was unlovable... but Maura supposed it was unsurprising that she had decided to go. After all, Maura was crying over soap... not exactly the sign of a completely healthy mind. But... no, there were footsteps on the stairs. Had she come back to say goodbye? That was nice (now if Maura could just pause the Susie-movie so that she could open her eyes), even if unnecessary. Maura would be fine (well, she was probably dying, but after that, she would be okay... she had a will drawn up) without a goodbye. She did worry that Jane might take it badly though... for some reason, Jane seemed to like Maura (she can't imagine why) so it would be nice to at least say goodbye before her inevitable asphyxiation. However, one cannot always have what one wants and...

"I got it Ma."

Oh.

"Oh Maura..."

(she can't feel the floor but she can feel the towel being wrapped around her naked shoulders)

"I'm so sorry, sweetie."

(Jane sounded like she was crying... Maura doesn't want her to cry so she tried harder to breathe and just ended up coughing and gagging, her body moved so she was over the toilet bowl for the expulsion of her stomach contents)

"Fuck..."

(she could hear Jane's voice but nothing else)

"You know, I never told you..."

(Maura still can't open her eyes, that goddamn Susie-movie playing on repeat forever but it's okay because Jane is still talking)

"... about my breakdown after I... we... lost Frost. I told you about the postcard... but I didn't tell you how hard I cried. I didn't tell you how I... I thought I'd never breathe again, and that I was dying too. I mean... I knew I was grieving, but I just didn't... I didn't know how... how..."

(Jane was crying again and Maura's eyes finally opened, hazel meeting brown straight away)

"... how much it hurts," Jane finally finished, and Maura's eyes slammed shut again, her body curling into Jane's instinctively.

"It's my fault."

"It's not."

"She was my friend."

"Yes, she was."

"How do I do this?"

Jane squeezed her hand. "Tell me about her."

You know, if someone had told Maura six months ago that a simple bar of soap would have created a moment where she went from hysterical tears to sitting with her best friend on her bathroom floor, naked but for a towel and with the taste of sick still in the back of her throat, she would have had a hard time believing it. But yet, here she was, tear tracks drying on her face (and new ones still appearing), that damn piece of soap in one hand, Jane's hand in the other, and learning how to heal herself.

END

 _ **You know the drill. Review and I give you cookies. Ahem, I mean... I don't bribe my readers... *shifty eyes* *sneakily offers cookies under the table* hehe thanks for reading! Love to all, Katie xoxo**_


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